Page 27 of Velvet and Valor
“I can’t believe you work behind the camera instead of in front of it,” I murmur as I pour her a few fingers of twelve-year-old scotch. I give myself a little club soda in the same kind of glass. I’m on the clock. Can’t let myself get hazy with booze.
“What?” her gaze snaps over to me and I cringe on the inside. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Her eyes narrow slightly. “Oh, I see. Because I’m a woman, I’m not competent enough to be a studio exec?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head gently. “That’s not what I meant at all. I mean, you’re stunning. I’d think you’d have no shortage of cameras pointed at you.”
A flush of color comes to her cheeks, and she quickly looks away. Her hand comes up as of its own accord and teases a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Oh. Well, I’m not much of an actor,” she says, looking out at the ocean. “Besides, I like my job. I get a chance to discover and elevate artists, and what else is someone with my job title supposed to do?”
I almost say ‘make money’ but I stop myself. No, she’s quite serious. I admire that. June’s job isn’t just a job. It’s a calling.
I felt the same way in the army, but now what do I do? I don’t have a calling, and I’m not sure I want one. I wanted to make the world a better place, but then the world showed me its ugliness. Now I’m not sure it’s worth the effort.
June, though, gives me hope for humanity. Like, there are still people out there who fight tooth and nail for beauty, and music, and art. We need people like that, to counter the monsters who only defile and destroy.
It’s not my duty to kill the bad men who defile and destroy any longer. That part of my life is over. But I can protect June and keep her safe, so she can keep on doing what she does best: making the world more beautiful, one movie at a time.
“You said you’re not much of an actor.” I see that both our glasses are mysteriously empty, and I go about correcting that. “I take it that means you’ve tried to act?”
She sighs. “Yes, I’ve tried.” Her nose wrinkles. “After I hit puberty, everyone told me I should be an actress or a model. I tried both because I felt like I was supposed to.”
Her eyes darken.
“I got out of modeling right away. There are some seriously creepy photographers out there, let me just say that. And as faras acting went…my heart just wasn’t in it. I picked up some gigs here and there, but I gravitated toward the production side of things early on.”
She looks up at me, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“So, I studied business administration and film as literature. Double major. I saw that the producers were the ones who had the real power, the ones who decided what films got made.”
Laughter shakes her shoulders and wrinkles the skin by her eyes. She’s got a damn gorgeous smile.
“I guess that makes me sound like a dictator or something. I have to be in charge or else.”
“Not a dictator,” I say. “Just someone who knows what they want and isn’t afraid to go after it. I can relate to that.”
I give her a look that could be about movies…but isn’t. An unspoken communication passes between us, more energy than anything tangible. The only outward sign she gives is a slight arching of her brows. Not necessarily inviting me through the door but not slamming it in my face either.
“You mentioned earlier that you had some kind of passion project coming down the pike,” I say, setting my glass down with a slight clink of shifting ice.
“Yes,” she hisses, her eyes lighting up like a supernova. “A biopic about Langston Hughes. It’s a microbudget film but the cinematography is just soaked in emotion!”
She stops, and her gaze drops to her drink.
“Ah, I’m probably boring you with all this industry talk.”
Somebody told June she was being too loud, too often. I’ve seen it before. Hell, I’ve lived it before. I can’t stand to see her self-limiting like this.
“Hey.” I reach out and gently lift her chin until our gazes meet. “I like hearing you talk. Don’t ever apologize for it.”
She smiles, and my heart skips a beat. Man, she’s gorgeous. Sharp as a tack, too. The type of woman who can keep me on my toes. Just my type.
The moment stretches out. I don’t feel the need to fill it with more talking. I just…enjoy it for what it is.
Her phone rings, and shatters the moment, whatever it was. I try to keep the disappointment off my face.
“Hello? No, I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about that, I want to talk about…” June’s eyes widen. “No. No, no, no… I know exactly where it is…Becky, Becky, Becky…Becks…calm down. I know exactly where it is. I’ll get it to you by morning, okay?”
June ends the call, her teeth gritted in a grimace. Her fearful gaze falls on me.
